Fool Me
by Jaxson The Great
Summary: Sometimes, a Spy is a Spy. Or is that just what he wants you to think?


Running was a lot easier when he wore the face of a Scout.

It was something about the mindset, he thought. Something about knowing he _looked_ like you could run for miles, years, even. That young face, just barely dusted with sun-induced freckles, the muscles, thin and taut, like drums, the powerful legs, like engines that made the machine that was Scout go.

And go he did.

He didn't feel any different, wearing the Scout's face, but he _felt_ different. It made all the difference in the world, what he looked like.

To his enemies, he knew, he looked every bit the pesky brat. The thumb-squashed nose, the shifty, cinnamon eyes, the stubby nails and flaky, picked-at cuticles, the buck teeth, constantly at work worrying his lower lip.

He ran-not as fast as a Scout, but fast enough-for cover, ducking behind a half-demolished fence, emerging seconds later a Soldier, complete with a duck-footed gait, strong, sloped shoulders, and large, clumsy hands.

He charged across the clearing, closer to the enemy base than before, and jumped behind a boulder, where he switched to Sniper.

It was in this fashion, switching next to Pyro, then Engineer, Spy himself, and Scout again, that he crept steadily toward the BLU base. Spy knew that if he stayed in any one disguise for too long, he might be spotted by a real BLU. He knew there was nothing he did quite perfectly; the walk was all wrong, or the facial expressions were off, or the way he sometimes brushed his cheek with his thumb, a simple habit that was unique to him. If any BLU caught him doing that, he'd be found out immediately.

But he was best with Scout. Loud as he was, and in an unapologetic, brash way that made those he encountered unwilling to quite meet his eye. It was easy, being Scout. Spy simply had to _believe_ he was young, flexible, confidant, a king in his own right, and he _was_.

So it was wearing the Scout's face that he entered the BLU base, glancing everywhere twice, just as the shifty Scout would, to make sure there were no BLUs paying him any special attention. He walked in, loudly and confidently and with his head held high, and with a hard look in his eyes that dared anyone to challenge his right to enter the base.

One man did.

"Scout!"

Spy jumped, glanced everywhere, and spotted the BLU Engineer kneeling nearby, doing something or other to his machines. He waved Spy over, with big, windmilling motions.

"What?" Spy stage-whispered, so loudly half the others in the base-a Sniper here, Medic and Heavy there, and a Soldier fresh from Respawn-glanced their way. "I'm on a _mission_ here!"

"Come _here,"_ the Engineer hissed. "I have something for you."

The Scout would have grinned, pleased. So Spy grinned, seemingly easily swayed by the thought of a surprise. Scouts were, in this respect, very easy to please. If you pretended you spent every waking hour thinking about them, if you admire them and compliment them and hint at jealousy for them, they easily become putty in your hands, so infatuated with the idea that they are the center of your universe.

So Spy sauntered over, watching the Engineer's face expectantly, all the while shooting cheeky smirkish looks at the other BLUs, as though to say _don't'cha wish you were me?_

Spy came to a stop a few feet from the Engineer's sentry, level two. It was a stupid thing to do, standing directly in front of an enemy sentry, with nothing but a feeble disguise to protect him. It was stupid to stand in front of a sentry at all, enemy or not, but it was just the sort of stupid thing Scout would do.

He put his hands to his hips, knowing the old Engineer would see long, spidery fingers on strong, bony hips.

The Engineer leaned across his machine, studying Spy for a moment. Scout would have found his curiosity about to eat him alive.

"So what _is _it, man?" Spy hissed, a huff of hot, desert air. "I know I'm great 'n all that, but I ain't got all day to sit here and let you oogle me, a'ight?"

The man grinned and stood, rising from where he'd been working on his knees. Standing, he was a little shorter than Spy, but Scout would have been almost a full head taller.

They stared each other down for almost a full minute, longer than a Scout would have likely been capable of staying quiet for, until the Engineer laughed to himself and shook his head, coming forward to clap his hand onto Spy's shoulder.

Spy bristled, ducking away at the last second. "What'cha laughing at?"

"You're pretty good," the Engineer said, "but your disguise still needs work."

Spy frowned, with extra eye-squinting and nose-wrinkling. He prided himself in never giving in at the first sign of defeat, though perhaps this was more due to his sense of pride than professionalism.

"What are you, crazy!?" he shrieked, gesturing wildly at himself. "Do I _look _like a freakin' Spy to you!?"

The Engineer just laughed and shook his head again, pulling his wrench from his toolbelt. "No, but rumor has it, that's the point."

Spy clenched his teeth. Oh, it was good to let his tension run through the boy's veins, so unhindered, unchecked. He felt _powerful, _in the way lightning feels powerful. He felt like something raw and curious and new, something that could not be harnessed.

"Listen, old man, you're crazy. Anyone ever tell you that? Besides me?" Spy crossed his arms, cocked his head, and rocked back on his heels. "What'cha got for me, anyway?"

"This," the Engineer said, and in a swift, sure motion had dropped his disguise and pulled out his knife, stance screaming his readiness for a fight.

Spy hesitated only a moment before doing the same, stepping neatly out of sight of the Sentry, and the two Spies stared each other down, as only Spies could, each waiting for the other to strike first.

For the first time since entering the enemy base, Spy became aware of the activity around him. He'd been so caught up in being Scout, he hadn't had time for petty things like background noise. But now that the only part he had to play was safely hidden under his mask, he could focus on his surroundings. Even as he stared the other Spy down, he was keeping track of all the other enemies; the Demoman charging out of Respawn, the Pyro posted at the entrance, paying close attention to both Spies, in case he needed to step in, and the real Scout, who was somewhere out of sight, yelling something that echoed off the walls, making his words incomprehensible.

"Tell me what gave you away," the BLU Spy said, softly, an undertone to the loudness around them.

"I was too patient," Spy said, knowing instantly it was true. He hadn't been twitchy enough.

"Yes, but there was something else," the other Spy said. "I noticed it immediately."

Spy thought back to when he'd first entered the base, but could think of nothing.

"It was your focus," the enemy admitted. "Your firm determination. You were so set on completing your mission, on doing it _right._ Scout, on the other hand, could care less about his performance. That is, until he is boasting about it later."

Spy nodded. "I see that, now. Thank you," he added, for it was only polite.

The other Spy nodded, too. "There are other things, too. Small things. I could teach you, but my employer would demand the opposite."

Spy broke eye contact, glancing at both men's drawn knives and crouched, defensive positions. "We do seem to be in a rather difficult predicament."

"That we do," the other said, and with that they struck, like cobras fighting for dominance. They moved swiftly, and with smooth, sure movements that both had practiced and practiced until it was almost first nature.

Spy liked being Scout, but it was nice to be able to drop his masquerade, and face his foe for what he really was.

It was a tiny slip that ended it, as the Spies slashed at each other, both dancing out of his opponent's range before any damage could be dealt. Spy saw an opening in his mirror's defenses, but just as he swooped in, ready to duck back out of the way as the other man became dead weight, his own team's Scout came barreling through, shoving them both out of the way as he ran between them, eyes on nothing but the prize.

Spy had been unguarded, and almost lost his balance. Just as he had recovered himself his enemy struck, and Spy opened his eyes to the shabby walls of Respawn.


End file.
